


Swing

by Kwantum



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Angst, Big angst, Gang AU, M/M, Why do I do this, Wowson - Freeform, i know this is sloppy and unpolished and terrible but i was bullied into posting it forgive me, i was mostly running off of a prompt inspired by zombie concept photos, or something, then this mess happened and im soRRY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kwantum/pseuds/Kwantum
Summary: Sehyoon finds himself on the wrong side of a violent gang and has to pay his way out in blood before Jason gets swept up in it too.Or worse.





	Swing

It's been hours, he's sure of it. They'd gagged him and tied a black bag over his head before dragging him to wherever he is now and tying him to a chair, not that calling for help would get him anywhere anyway. Jason assumes the gag is more or less to stop him from mouthing off, honestly. He'd tried for a while to wriggle free of the ropes, but succeeded only in rubbing his pale skin raw and bloody.

When he hears someone enter, a myriad of  _ opinions _ that would likely get him shot swim to the surface of his mind, and he's suddenly grateful he can't speak.

 

_ Swing _

 

Sehyoon never enjoys this. He does what he has to do and tries not to let it keep him up at night, reasoning that trash beating trash isn’t really anything to lose sleep over in the grand scheme of things. He'll pay his dues and walk away and promptly forget that this part of his life had ever existed.

It's with this attitude that he steps into the room, lifting the bat before he even reaches the kid sitting in the middle of it. He has no interest in the sadism and theatrics that the others so love to indulge in. Taunting and dragging it out does nothing for him. This is a simple task.

He says nothing, just strikes.

 

_ Swing _

 

He doesn't know why he's so shocked when he feels the bat crash into his ribcage, but he is and _ jesus fucking christ that hurts _ . He manages to bite back the noise that tries to escape him, and finds himself irritated that the bag over his head is preventing him from glaring at his attacker.

 

_ Swing _

 

Sehyoon isn't surprised that the boy takes the hit silently. They almost always do for the first couple, thinking for some reason that manning through it will change anything. It doesn't, and Sehyoon can see the white-knuckled grip he has on the chair. The shaking in his hands. He doesn't have to scream, it's written all over his body.

A pang of guilt bubbles up and Sehyoon smothers it by entertaining thoughts of freedom, of getting as far away from this shit hole as possible, and taking Jason with him before he gets into even more trouble. He lets it fuel him.

 

_ Swing _

 

He hasn't caught his breath before he feels the bat come down again, this time on his opposite arm. He bites down so hard on the rag in his mouth that it hurts, but not nearly enough to distract from the searing pain in his arm, which is most certainly broken. This guy isn't fucking around, and what terrifies him more is  that he hasn't said anything. No questions, no threats. If this isn't to get anything out of him then when will he stop?

 

_ Swing _

 

He puts a little more force into the strike, aiming to do as much damage as possible so he can get this over with. The promise of freedom sings in his mind, overpowering any remorse that would otherwise nag at his conscience. He reminds himself as he so often does, that this isn't just for him. If he doesn't get Jason out of here, he'll wind up exactly like the kid in front of him, tied to a chair being beaten to death. Sehyoon couldn't take it. Jason had been the last straw. 

He wanted out. He had to get out.

 

_ Swing _

 

Jason swears he can hear the rush of the bat before it strikes him. He screams into the gag, fully over trying to stifle it. Ribs that were already cracked snap and send new waves of pain through his broken body, making his head swim. He wonders how much longer he can stay conscious.

 

_ Swing _

 

Sehyoon barely hears the muffled cries, aiming for his torso to beat through already-broken ribs. It earns him another choked sound, and the boy is beginning to look like he's sagging in the chair, the ropes doing more to hold him up than his own body. This would be a lot easier for everyone if they'd let Sehyoon shoot him, but the bat would get the job done soon enough.

 

_ Swing _

 

Tears burn in his eyes as he takes another hit, this one pushing the air from his lungs and he’s not sure if he’s just had the wind knocked out of him or if his lungs are collapsing but it’s  _ so hard _ to breathe. All the defiance and venom he’d fostered when he’d arrived are long gone, replaced by panic and fear as the realization that this isn’t just a lesson or interrogation sinks in. The swings aren’t being pulled, and he’s not sure what the damage is exactly but he has a gut feeling that most people don’t bounce back from it.    
  
The tears spill over as he clenches his eyes shut, not that he can see but somehow it makes him feel a little bit better anyway. He wonders where Sehyoon is. If maybe he’ll come crashing through the door and stop this. Sehyoon’s always there when he needs him most. He’s never let him down even once. He’d come. Somehow he’d know and he’d come.

 

_ Swing _

 

He puts all his strength into this one, landing a hit on the kid’s sternum and feeling the bones give. He’s done with this, wants to be finished and walk out that door. He’d have just started by cracking his skull open but he knows the people who’d sent him in here well enough to know that it wouldn’t be enough. He has to do it this way or they’ll find a reason to break their promise.   
  
The way the kid’s muffled screams have weakened tell him that he’s near done anyway. At this point he’s honestly surprised by the fact that he’s still holding his head up, if not by much. He wants to tell him it’ll be over soon, but doesn’t.

 

_ Swing _

 

His arms are shattered, useless. He no longer even tries to struggle against the binds, doing all he can just to keep breathing through the stabbing pain in his chest and blood bubbling up into his mouth and nose, every breath feeling like glass through his lungs. It's taking every ounce of willpower not to black out, and at this point he's not sure why he's trying. His head lolls a bit, and a tired, pathetic whimper manages to slip past his conscious mind, finding its way out against his will.

 

_ Swing _

 

Sehyoon stops, pulling the bat just before it collides with the kid's head as the little noise permeates his thoughts. It's too familiar, a sound he knows from endless hours talking and teasing and fighting and fucking, a sound Jason makes whenever he isn't getting his way, an unconscious little pout that slips out in seemingly any situation. It's always a little different in tone, but it's the same little whine every time and he knows it so intimately that it knocks all the air from his lungs when he catches it coming from under the black hood, muffled but clear as day in the silence of the room.

He wants to chalk it up to his imagination. To a guilty subconscious and his earlier thoughts of Jason in that chair, but he can’t stop himself from grabbing the hood and snatching it off the kid’s head.

 

His face is the only thing that doesn’t look broken. Beautiful and pristine, sharp eyes unfocused but open. The only thing about him that doesn’t look like a porcelain doll is the dark blood painting his lips and chin, smeared hideously from where Sehyoon had pulled the hood away.

  
The bat falls from his fingertips, and Jason looks up, the sound of the metal clattering against the cement seeming to pull at his consciousness. His gaze drifts for a moment, as if having trouble finding its mark, then settles on Sehyoon’s horrified face, where it steadies.   
  
He looks like he wants to say something, but only a stuttered, strained little breath makes it through the blood and ruin. His lips pull back into something like a smile, and the sharp eyes Sehyoon loves so much crinkle a bit at the corners. He looks up at Sehyoon like he's seeing an angel, and just before the light goes out of his eyes, he understands why. 

Jason thought he'd come to save him.

  
  


  
  
  



End file.
